


of laughter and love.

by michellejjones



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Military, F/M, Fremione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellejjones/pseuds/michellejjones
Summary: When the party ends, he slips his number into her phone and tells her to use it. She smiles and says she'll do her best. He doesn't leave until she promises to do better than her best; and she does.[Fremione. Fred x Hermione. Oneshot. AU.]





	of laughter and love.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters mentioned below. All I own is the idea for this AU. In this AU, almost every character has been in the military. They fought in a war and have many injuries because of this. Ron lost his arm; Fred lost his leg. Hermione and Harry have plenty of scars. George still lost his ear, and Ginny was shot in the shoulder and stabbed in the leg. The fic grazes ptsd, so if you're sensitive to that stuff, I'd suggest not reading this. That is all. Enjoy.

He meets her at his brother's college graduation party, and he doesn't think she's all too special at first. Call him an arse for thinking that, but, hey, at least he's honest. She's a modest thing, wearing a dress that rests just passed her knees, and short, sensible heels. She's got small hips and a fairly large bust. Her eyes are a boring brown color, and her tanned skin is almost the same shade as her long, braided hair. "Fred," Ron is saying, "this here is Harry Potter and Hermione Granger; George already met them. They're my best mates; you know, the ones I'm always yammering on about."

Harry Potter, by contrast, looks extremely interesting. He's sporting a buzzcut and the beginnings of a raven-colored beard; his eyes are a startlingly bright color of green, and he's got countless scars running up his arms. The most interesting thing about him, though, is the gruesome and jagged scar that runs from his temple down to his jaw. He extends a hand and says to Fred, "pleasure to meet you."

"I-" Fred blinks twice, before saying, "yeah, you too, sorry."

"It's okay," Harry laughs. "Your entire family was the same way when they first met me. You're probably wondering how I got these, huh?"

"Harry-" The girl, Hermione, begins, but Harry gently shakes his head at her.

" 'S quite alright, Hermione. Any brother of Ron's can ask what he likes. Maybe I won't always answer, but in this case, I'll make an exception." Harry's eyes twinkle as he continues, and Fred watches as Hermione links her and Harry's arms together. He wonders if they're dating, but the thought flees his mind as Harry speaks, "Hermione and I actually met Ron when we all joined the Marines. We were met with combat one day, and I, well..." Harry shrugs, "I got caught in the thick of it. That's how I have all these," he holds up his forearms and flashes the white trophies on his arms. "It's alright, though; they were a real chick-magnet when the three of us started college."

"And that one?" Fred asks, pointing to the scar on his forehead.

Harry's smile fades.

Hermione's back straightens, and she speaks in a no-nonsense voice as she says, "that one's off limits for now." She clears her throat, "Ron said you were in the air force for a while, with your brother?"

Fred nods, decidedly dropping the conversation with Harry and turning to the girl he'd deemed boring. Her eyes are flashing, and Fred thinks that maybe she's got more fire in her than she'd let on. "Yeah; we served, before leaving and starting our business-"

"-Weasley's Worldwide Wheezes-"

"-that's the one," Fred hums, smiling at Hermione. She gives him a tight lipped smile in response. "We were actually the ones to introduce Ron to Luna."

Hermione raises one thick eyebrow, "were you?"

"Was my name called?" They all turn towards the dreamy voice, and find the young woman in question standing before them. Ron holds a hand out to her, and she takes it. "No matter; I came to get Ron. Come dance with me," she says.

"Er, love, I'm not sure-"

Luna turns to look at Ron, smiling sweetly at him and giving him a look that Fred knows Ron won't be able to resist. "Please?"

Ron hesitates.

Then, he turns and looks at his brother and friends. "Be back soon." He takes Luna by the waist and follows her out to the dance floor.

It's then that Fred's only sister, Ginny, tumbles over to the three of them and says, "dance with me?" To Harry, who moves to say no, only to have Ginny cut in with, "c'mon, I'm only home for another week. Then it's back to the army with me." She grins, "let's dance."

When Harry is whisked off, Fred turns to Hermione, who says, "I don't think Ginny knows you too are dating."

Hermione gives Fred that same tight-lipped smile again, but this time her eyes are lit with amusement. She says, "that's quite alright, because Harry and I _aren't_ dating." Upon seeing Fred's expression of confusion, she says, "Harry and I have known each other since we were fifteen; he's my adoptive brother."

All at once, Fred feels quite stupid. His tongue seems to glue itself to his mouth, and he feels himself blush, something's for which he's not exactly known.

"It's alright," Hermione says gently, "I reckon it's an easy assumption to make; Harry and I look nothing alike, after all."

Fred nods. And then he says, almost without realizing, "would you like to dance?"

Hermione's lips part in surprise, and Fred sees a row of perfect teeth greet him, whiter than freshly fallen snow and almost blinding in the dark light of the party. He wonders why she doesn't smile more often, then; with teeth like that, the world was being sorely cheated. But that doesn't change the fact that she still hasn't said anything. Fred is about to backtrack because of this, but then she surprises him. "If you can keep up," she says, and a smirk just barely ghosts her lips.

Fred lets out a laugh of disbelief, and, all at once, his initial judgement of this girl, Hermione Granger, evaporate.

"Challenge accepted, Ms. Granger." He holds out a hand. She takes it. "Let's dance."

* * *

For a Marine and recently graduated college student, Hermione is extremely light on her feet and quite possibly the best dancer he's ever had the pleasure of two-stepping with. They talk as they dance, and she gives him that tight-lipped smile sometimes, when he says something funny or witty. But she never full out grins at him; she never loosens up in his arms or laughs without a care. For as good a dancer as she is, she's not free enough. Hermione Granger, Fred thinks, doesn't know how to let go.

He doesn't say anything that night, but when the party ends, he slips his number into her phone and tells her to use it. She smiles and says she'll do her best.

He doesn't leave until she promises to do better than her best.

And she does.

* * *

The park is bright and colorful and mostly sober, which makes it the almost complete opposite of the first time they met. He sees her first. She's sitting at the edge of the lake of which the park is host, wearing a tight shirt that reads _i only take the best_ and red skinny jeans. Her nose is buried in a book, but Fred can't find it in him to feel offended that she brought a book to their date.

"You look great," Fred says, by way of greeting, helping Hermione up as she gives him that same tight-lipped smile.

"You're not so bad yourself, stud." She grins at him, and allows him to take her hand in his as they begin to walk down the sidewalk of the park. He takes note of the tattoo he hadn't noticed the night they met; it's an image of a long, skinny cat, curled up on top of a book.

"Nice tattoo," he remarks, and Hermione straightens but nods graciously.

"Thanks," she says. "It's of my cat, Crookshanks, and a book, obviously."

Fred laughs, "but of course."

The chatter from there takes off, leading them to the randomest of conversations, and by evening, Fred has Hermione forgetting her tight-lipped smile. Instead, she's smirking at him, and sometimes he sees the barest hint of teeth. They're back at her apartment when he says to her, "would you like to hear a joke about a ghost?"

Hermione snorts. Actually snorts. Fred holds back the laugh of ecstasy that bubbles up inside him. "Not really," she says to him.

"That's the spirit."

Hermione stills for a moment. The tattoo on her arm twists as she brings a hand up to her face, before she breaks out into a grin. Fred feels his heart contract in a foreign way, and feels himself alight with pure joy as she smiles, really smiles, at _him._ "You're terrible!" She exclaims, but leans in to kiss him smack on the lips anyway.

"Kiss on the first date, huh?" Fred asks as they part.

Hermione rolls her eyes, "I was a Marine, Weasley. Kiss on the first date."

* * *

She's half asleep when Fred really notices the tattoo on her arm.

Sure, it's artistically good, and she's explained the significance of it multiple times, but he's never really _looked_ at it. He's skimmed it, he's glanced at it, but never taken it in with care and detail.

And Fred finds a word.

He finds a word, just one word, etched and barely-readable underneath the blank ink that covers it from the eyes of the public. He finds it there, hidden under the inky spine of the book, crushed by the weight of the long, skinny cat that sleeps on top of it. Fred finds that one word there, and he stares.

His fingers reach out, almost of their own accord, and trace the pale scar, trace each letter that makes up that one word, and he wonders who did this to her. Who was monster enough to do this to the wonderful, beautiful, pretty, intelligent, compassionate, badass _Hermione Granger._ His fingers trace the scar and he lifts her arm towards him, watching her stir and registering that fact that her eyes flutter open.

Hermione's body tenses as he watches him watch her tattoo-covered scar.

_Despicable._

That's what the one word says, etched on Hermione's brown skin, and he reads it to himself as he traces the words, before looking up at Hermione. And for the first time in her life, she looks terrified. Her shoulders are rigid, her eyes are panicked, and her fingers are shaking. Fred makes eye contact with her, before lowering his head until his lips are right on top of the word. His blue eyes never break contact from her brown irises, and as his lips finally make contact with the scar, his feels her shiver underneath him. His lips kiss that scar, that tattoo, until every inch of it is peppered with his touch, and never once do his eyes leave hers. The kisses are as gentle as he can make them, but they're fierce too; they are a promise.

And as Hermione leans forward to kiss Fred fiercely on his lips, he knows she understands.

* * *

The day is April, and she's been running a finger along that tattoo of hers all day, on edge and tired and spooked. Fred knows why. God, does he know why.

("Tomorrow's the day that word happened," Harry tells Fred as they both gaze at Hermione. "Tomorrow's the day this happened, too." Harry points to the scar that runs from his temple down his face, "and the day Ron lost his arm."

"Must've been quite a day for you guys," Fred responds, tearing his eyes away from Hermione and staring at Harry in understanding.

Harry's lips form a thin line. The detective badge on his shirt shines. "It was a day, alright." Harry shrugs. "It was a hell of a day.")

He takes her by her fingertips suddenly, and Hermione flinches at his touch. In her eyes Fred can see reflected every last haunt of a memory she has. He knows she can see his, too; no one leaves a war unscathed. Fleetingly, he remembers the feeling he had when his airplane crashed, how he felt when he crawled out of the wreckage, how he felt when he woke up in a hospital with a missing leg. But that memory fades upon seeing the way Hermione winces when his hands come up on either side of her face. War destroys, Fred thinks. But he won't allow it to destroy them.

"Hermione?" Fred asks, his voice softer than usual.

She greets him with a sudden question in her eyes. "Mm?"

"Hermione," Fred says again, and he kisses her shaking fingertips, ignoring the fact that his are trembling even more. "I just wanted to tell you that..." He clears his throat, and Hermione frees one of her hands so she can run it through his wild hair (he's grown it back). "Well, I just thought you should know..." She stares at him, and he notes how pretty her eyes are. How he ever thought they were boring, he'll never know. "Ugh," Fred finally says, "screw this." His hand finds hers again, and he squeezes tightly before saying, "I love you, Hermione."

A beat passess, where the only noise is the t.v. and the water boiling in the kitchen, ready for the macaroni to be added.

And then Hermione _smiles._

Her hands come up to rest on either side of his face, and she kisses him, really kisses him, and he enjoys the way her lips smile as she does this, enjoys the goofy, almost-carefree grin that settles onto her face as she stares at him. "Fred Weasley," she says to him, and he stares in shock, because she said his name with _laughter_ on her tongue, and even as he stares she breaks out into a loud, joyful, _free_ laugh that leaves him speechless because he's never heard a sound so beautiful in his _life._ "Fred Weasley," Hermione says again, still laughing with everything she has in her, pretty teeth (he now knows she had braces as a child) gracing him with their presence, "I love you, too."

A laugh escapes him, too, relieved and happy, and together, they stumble into Hermione's kitchen, where they proceed to overcook the macaroni and add too much milk to the should-be simple recipe.

And in between that, he kisses her. He kisses her like she's food and he's starving, and in between all of that, Hermione _laughs._

She never stops.


End file.
